Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from South Sudan and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Stockholm Monsters to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by The Standells. All the underground hits.
All Laurel Aitken tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fort Wilson Riot record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a F. McDonald record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dead C,
Sixth Finger,
Brass Construction,
Chris & Cosey,
Gong,
Rosa Yemen,
Judy Mowatt,
Bob Dylan,
Sonic Youth,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Gabor Szabo,
Scion,
Joensuu 1685,
Henry Cow,
Fat Boys,
The Slackers,
Fugazi,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Circle Jerks,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Amon Düül,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Howard Jones,
Althea and Donna,
James White and The Blacks,
Visage,
Connie Case,
Echospace,
Oblivians,
The Litter,
Zero Boys,
The Skatalites,
The Cramps,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Symarip,
Drive Like Jehu,
Aloha Tigers,
Interpol,
The Misunderstood,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Nico,
The Star Department,
The Flesh Eaters,
KRS-One,
Morten Harket,
The Smiths,
Sister Nancy,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
New Order,
Faraquet,
Chris Corsano,
Dual Sessions,
Peter & Gordon,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Sound Behaviour,
Gil Scott Heron,
Buzzcocks,
Gastr Del Sol,
Franke,
Tropical Tobacco,
Wally Richardson,
Technova, Technova, Technova, Technova.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.